


Detour

by Thebeastisyou



Category: Glee, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebeastisyou/pseuds/Thebeastisyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine get lost on their way to the Grand Canyon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detour

The city council has ruled that tourists will now be used as target practice for the junior archery team. Remember, if you see someone who you don’t recognize, who may not belong to our community, do not shoot them. Send their location to a camp counselor instead, so the children can get their practice in on moving targets, instead of those boring old logs. Why would they need to shoot logs? Logs can’t run. Or plead for their lives. Ha! Logs.  
This has been a public service announcement.

-

“What if you hold down the number three button and turn the dial to the right this time?”

Kurt thumps his head against the headrest and turns to glare at Blaine in the driver’s seat. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and you think we’re going to get radio? Still?”

“It was working a couple hours ago,”

“Oh, you mean the last time we passed through a town? I remember that, actually. But now we’re lost and none of this looks like the Grand Canyon and no one would hear us scream,”

Blaine grins. “A touch too morbid?”

“Of course not. Always the perfect amount of doom and gloom from me, you know that,”

Blaine’s trying to come up with a suitably funny response when Kurt leans forward and squints out the dashboard. “Do you see that?”

“Hmm?”

“Up there to the right, does that look like buildings?”

Blaine glances over to Kurt with relief.“You think they’ll know where the Grand Canyon is?”

“They must know, they probably get confused, lost, idiots like us every day,”

Headaches and tensions ebbing away they thank the universe as they drive by a sign that welcomes them to the little town of Night Vale.

-

It’s already been A Day. Carlos has been trying to get samples of the cacti after he found mutations (and spider cells) on the trees in the park. But he’s been out in the heat of the desert for hours, covered in sand and spines. He struggles up to his knees, lab coat stained and torn and glares at the cactus a few feet away. Every time he gets close it seems like the cactus moves just out of his reach and he’s left with a handful of pain and a mouthful of sand. If he could find a long stick somewhere he might be able to get close enough.

With a sigh he stands and dusts his coat off as well as possible, ready to start heading back to town, when he sees a small cloud of dust coming up the road. All he can think, in a moment of blind panic is ‘Not another sandstorm, please, please,’ but this cloud is small, and as it draws closer he can see that it’s just a car, coming up one of the lesser used roads towards town.

As it approaches, he’s relieved to see a seemingly normal couple of humans driving, and he’s only slightly terrified when they stop near him and roll down the window.

“Excuse me! Can you help us?” The man in the passenger seat yells. Carlos keeps his distance (never trust someone who asks for help. Or horseradish).

“What sort of help?” He calls back through cupped hands, still a good 30 feet from the road. He sees the men exchange a glance.

“We’re trying to get to the Grand Canyon, but we’re a little turned around, we were just wondering if you could point us in the right direction?” The man behind the wheel is leaning towards him now too. If they are just a couple of lost tourists then they should be safe. He takes a few steps closer to the car. And realizes he has no idea where the Grand Canyon is, can’t even remember what state they’re in. He must have written it down somewhere, right? Before they took his pencils away? Someone must know. But if they don’t is it really that important?

“Um, hello?” Carlos jumps back and the man standing next to him flinches, it’s the one from the passenger seat, with the brown hair. “Are you okay?”

He’s concerned, this man. His eyes are round and there are shadows under them. “I uh, I think I might have a map back home,” He says, and the man’s eyes light up.

“Really? That would be perfect, honestly,” He leans forward. “Neither of us are any good at directions, and we’re both bad at asking for help, you know how it is,” Carlos takes a small step back and looks down at the man’s hands so he can think.

“Are you going to be here long?” He asks the general direction of the man’s left pant leg.

“I, hmm,” He glances back at the car. “Well this is the first town we’ve come across in hours and it is getting dark, it’d probably be better to stay and then get back on track in the morning,”

“It’s getting dark?” Carlos snaps his head up toward the horizon.

“Yes?”

“We need to go, I need, could I have a ride, actually?” The man looks confused, scans the road for a car. “I don’t have one. A car. And I could lead you to a restaurant? Maybe buy you a pizza for all your help?”

The man pauses for just a second, glancing back at the car, or maybe it’s the man, again, before turning back and giving a half smile. “Need any help with the cactus needles while we’re at it?”

“I mean, if you wouldn’t mind…”

-

Honestly, Blaine’s just happy there’s pizza. He and Kurt are sitting on one side of a booth, watching the man across from them pull out dozens of little scraps of paper and set them on the table next to a neat pile of cactus spines before getting more. His pockets seem infinite. Kurt’s already craning his neck trying to see if there’s a dessert menu.

“Okay, okay, I think that’s all of it,” The man pats a few of the scruffier looking pieces and clears his throat.

“I’m sorry, but, what’s your name?” It’s rude to interrupt, but it’s been driving him crazy. He figured they’d find out in the car, but Carlos had been intent on finding some radio station that seemed to just be playing eagle calls, and they hadn’t had a chance to talk.

“Carlos. I’m Carlos the scientist,”

“Nice to meet you then,” Blaine extends a hand to shake. “I’m Blaine and this is Kurt,” Everyone shakes hands and then settles back against their seats.

“Sorry, just needed to know,”

“No, it’s understandable, I should have remembered,” Carlos looks distant and a touch confused.

Kurt shifts uncomfortably. “Living in a small town for so long where everyone knows each other, you must not have to introduce yourself to people often. Must be nice?”

Carlos continues to stare down at his collection of notes. “This town…”

Blaine surreptitiously takes Kurt’s hand under the table.

“Right, okay,” Carlos seems to collect himself. “If you’re going to stay here there are some things you need to know. We don’t eat any wheat or wheat by-products-”

“Wait, wait, if there’s no wheat what did we just-”

“Don’t go in the forest, don’t look at the dog park, don’t approach anyone wearing purple shoes, get inside immediately if it starts to rain, don’t answer the door if you hear knocking. Or screaming,” Carlos is scrambling through his notes as he goes, mumbling a little between each tip and tucking the papers back into the pockets of his lab coat when he’s done. “You ate at Big Rico’s already, that’s good, ah, don’t get your hair cut, don’t bother with watches, and ignore everything that seems like it might be out of the ordinary. Unless it’s coming toward you at high speed. In which case, you should probably run,” He looks up and takes a breath. “Oh! And you’re going to want to listen to the radio station I put on in your car. Pay attention to the announcer in case there are any sinkholes or blizzards you need to look out for. Any questions?”

Blaine is so glad he grabbed Kurt’s hand now. “Mmmm, nope!” Kurt’s smiling his ‘pacify the deluded’ smile, which means it’s about time to go. “You’ve been so helpful, thank you, we’ll be sure to take up all your advice, and if we don’t see you before we leave tomorrow, it has been a pleasure to meet you,” Kurt says this all through gritted teeth, trying to budge Blaine along out the booth. As they stand, hands still clenched, Blaine looks down to Carlos, trying to smooth out his papers, and mumbling something about pamphlets.

“It really was nice of you to help us out, do you need a ride home or?”

“No, I live next door, thank you,”

“Okay,”

“Yes,”

Kurt pulls Blaine out of the restaurant and out towards the car.

“I told you we weren’t going to pick up hitchhikers. It’s not romantic or adventurous or a good Samaritan thing to do,” Kurt’s rubbing his forehead with both hands, before he stop suddenly and pulls them away from his eyes. “The directions. We didn’t even get directions out of him,”

Blaine feels regret sink cold and dark through him. “I’m sorry, I, I can go back and ask-”

“Ask who? The guys in black capes or the man in a lab coat who told us to stay away from muffins?”

Blaine thunks his head down on the roof of their car. “I’m sorry,”

Kurt sighs and watches Blaine’s head, immobile on the roof. “It’s fine,”

“No, it’s,”

“Blaine,” He looks back. “It’s fine. It’s fine right now. We’re going to find a hotel and get some sleep and then we’ll find a library in the morning. They’ll have maps and we’ll be back on the road before lunch,” Kurt walks over the the driver’s side, sliding a hand along Blaine’s back as he goes, and unlocks the door. “Care to join me?”

-

Two men driving alone on a deserted highway, silent but for the static of their radio. They stare ahead and say nothing. One has blood oozing down his face and wants the second man to mention it. To notice it. But they both stare forward and stay quiet. The desert wind whips past them, and though they don’t know where they’re headed, neither one seems to mind anymore. They are safe and warm and together, on the lonely road. Now they can see a town in the distance. There is relief and laughter. They do not know what the wind turbines mean. The chimneys that rise in the distance, spewing thin, vaporous, environmentally friendly gases. They just drive on as the static on their radio changes to the voice of a man. Upbeat. Welcoming. Drawing them in. They are happy. They are at peace. They are driving towards almost certain death.

This has been traffic.


End file.
